and there is nothing in all directions. It’s white but there’s no sun so it’s

not even white. It’s just opaque, in every direction. I wonder if this is at

all like being partially sighted. As you get closer to things, they come into

focus, but generally you survive according to your knowledge of the layout,

your memory of any route.

When people come inside, they are flushed and exhausted. Every speck of skin

must be covered to protect against the wind but it’s not that cold (only -10C

right now) so you’re sweating as well. The cold days are the clear ones. Last

Tuesday was a classic example. It was cold, it was beautiful, clear and bright.

I got minor frostnip and cold burns on my arms – and yes, I was suitably

dressed. Around 5pm, my colleague and I were trying to align a light beam emitted

from the lab, projected 4km across the ice-shelf to a mirror, reflected back,

focussed into a telescope and ultimately an optical fibre connected to a spectrometer

which gives us an image. The conditions were perfect and we saw a lovely spot

of light. Then it went. Completely. Within 15 minutes the clouds and snow had

arrived, wind picked up and pressure was plummetting. We packed our bags and

left the lab ASAP.

I wasn’t able to return until Saturday, and that was in a 28 knot blow, to

check on the state of the lab. It was fine but the walk out there was hard going.

Perfectly safe (accompanied) but a bit of a slog. Took a good half hour. The

return was quicker though as the wind was behind us!

I love this weather, it’s howling outside and shaking inside. People still go to work but you don’t go outside for fun. I’m not worried for anyone’s safety as the general base procedure is designed exactly for weather like this. We sign in and out, we wear radios, we check up on each other and take ropes anywhere where there isn’t a handline. We’re all fine, part of me is loving it. But you wouldn’t want to be down here with an idiot.

5 Responses to Hoolie

So are going to start all your posts with “It was a dark and stormy night” for the next six months? Actually, I’m a little thrilled, as I suspect this means you will have more time to update us with your adventures, which, by the way, you continue to tell in riveting prose.

But why are you beaming light across ice shelves into mirrors? Isn’t it easier just to beam the light directly into the spectrometer? But why couldn’t you just do that back in the UK? Do they use different lamps in Antarctica? What’s the current over there? Are the plugs British?

Meanwhile, Felix keeps on posting about globalization and the New York Times. Apparently, neither are as great as somebody thought. We’re having interesting debates on MemeFirst, though. Iraq is going horribly pear-shaped, and there are plenty of people to blame for that, though none of them us.

Funny thing about Sweden is that just as you plunge into the dark, here everything gets bathed in bright bright light. But it happens suddenly. June 21 is not that far off anymore, and after that things start edging in your favor again, as I’m sure you are aware.

Good to hear from you Stefan and thanks for your flattery… but is that a very thinly disguised attempt to get me to talk about SCIENCE in my writing? How dare you even consider it?! Maybe, maybe, maybe.. if I pluck up the guts.. but don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Hello, I came to your website via a google search for “hoolie”. I am simply trying to find the meaning of the word or its origin. Where does the expression “blowin’ a hoolie” come from? Any ideas? From your dialog, I get the message that it has to do with high winds and bad weather. But why the word “hoolie”? thanks, rose